She shifts her hips and I have to believe it’s because her panties are wet. Because she wants me so bad she’s already aching for it. Please, dear God, let that be the case.
Diana gets up stands at the foot of the bed, and says, her voice strong, "He wants to. I want him to. And you do too, Mal. Just admit it. Just this once.”
I reach up and place my hand against Mallory’s cheek. Her skin is hot and soft. Our eyes lock. I don’t rein in my hormones, I let them dance all over my face—the desire, the need, the lust I’ve had on the back burner for her since the day we first dared to break family protocol and talk to each other at the summer town fair where both our Dads were playing in a street hockey charity tournament.
She finally sees it, and more importantly,believesit. But she doesn’t say anything. Mallory just leans in and kisses me.
God, it’s good. Needy and urgent and fuck me, if the first touch of her tongue doesn’t make my blood pressure spike so fast my heart flutters in my chest. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone more. And the truth is I won’t even have her tonight. Not the way I want. This has to be just a taste. It may be all I will ever get, so I better do it right.
I respond, full throttle. My hand growing possessive and wrapping into her hair at the back of her neck. I lean my whole body into her, pushing her back onto the mattress. Somewhere in my brain, I know Di is watching this, but it doesn't really register. All I can concentrate on is how good this feels.
We spend a long moment just making out, with my body over hers, my hips pushing down into her and hers pushing up into me. Her hands roam my back until they find the hem of my shirt and then she urgently tugs it off of me. When it falls to the floor, she shoves her hands into my hair and lets out this mewing sigh that lights every last hormone in my body on fire.
I grab her and move us in one bold, rough movement. Now she’s straddling me, sitting up. Her eyes dart to Diana who is on the chair Mallory had been sleeping on earlier—which feels like a decade ago now. I don’t want her to think about Di. I don’t want her to think about anything but me and how I make her feel, so I grip one of her thighs with one hand and lean up and cup a breast with the other. She gasps and arches into my touch, her eyes snapping closed. Good. Block out your friend in the corner, baby girl, this is only about us.
I want so badly to pull down the top of her dress, reach into her bra, and pinch her nipple between my fingertips, but I don't want to expose her to Diana. I know they've been best friends since grade school, and have probably seen each other naked a million times, but this feels different. And I don't want to share my first sight of what I'm sure are Mallory's perfect pink nipples and round, perky tits with Diana.
So I fight that urge and instead slide my other hand under her bunched-up dress and press into the thin fabric of her underwear covering her hip. I hold her still and rub my hard aching cock against the space between her legs. She snaps her head down and stares at me with wide, wondrous eyes. I pull my upper body off the bed and move my hand from her breast to the back of her neck, pulling our heads together.
“You feel what you do to me, Mallory?” I move my mouth to her ear and against the shell I whisper, “Wanna know a secret? This isn’t the first time you’ve made me hard, baby girl.”
“Baby girl.” She whispers it, shocked, awed, enamored. I don’t give my bed buddies nicknames. It’s too intimate, so I have no idea where that just came from, but I have to admit I love the way she reacted to it. “Say it again, Tate.”
“Tell me I can make you come, baby girl,” I whisper in between licking and sucking the column of her neck. “Tell me you want me to make you come.”
“I want you to make me come, Tate.”
Oh my God, this is everything. Wrong or right. Good or bad. This is everything. Her fingers lace into my hair and her hips buck against my shaft making me ravenous with need for her.
Both of my hands are under the hem of her dress now, moving swiftly, fingertips skirting the lace edging of her panties. I want to slip my hand right into them, but I fight the urge and slide around to cup her ass in my palms instead. Her butt fits in my palms like it was sculpted to be in my grip.
“You okay?” I hate myself for asking but I have to know for sure this is still okay. “Say stop if you want this to end.”
“I don’t want this to end,” Mallory huffs out in a needy breath.
Diana giggles. She sounds far away. My head tilts and for a second I see her. She’s in the chair by the window, her legs spread, her dress hiked up and fingers dipped under the thin material of her black thong.
Diana is fingering herself while her bed buddy fools around with her best friend. The reality hits me with a start but then Mallory leans down and covers my mouth with her own. Her tongue seeks out mine and all I can do is flip her onto her back and kiss her until I can’t even remember my own name let alone where we are or who is watching.
My ache now is growing physically painful. I know I can't fuck her here, now, probably ever, but my dick wants what my dick wants. I'll have to give it a stern talking-to later. For now, though, I shift so I'm lying on the bed beside her, my back to Diana, and I reach for my button and fly. Mallory watches me and I can feel her tense up beside me. She might want to fuck me too, but she doesn't want it here, like this, either. "He just needs a little more space. I promise he isn't joining the party. This is about you getting off, not me."
Undoing my pants gives me some relief and my cock pushes only against the fabric of my boxer-briefs, which helps a little. Mallory is staring down at the outline of it and she reaches over slowly with her hand, a fingertip pressing into the wet spot from my pre-cum.
Her eyelashes flutter and her tongue slips out across her bottom lip as she stares with abandon. She is fucking mesmerized by my cock and I swear to God something inside me sparks and catches fire like a faulty wire burning any hesitation to ash. I grab the back of her head and yank her into another kiss. She throws her leg on my hip and I grab her ass and grind against her like my life depends on it.
This horizontal humping session goes on for a while, and by the time I move my lips to her collarbone, Mallory is panting and, like me, has lost all sanity. “Touch me. Hurry. I already feel like I might come and you haven’t even touched it.”
“Touched what?” I ask, panting, playing dumb, but my hand moves over her hip and dances under the edge of her underwear just below her belly button. I make sure to keep the dress from moving too much, so it still covers her from Diana’s view.
“You know.”
“Say it.”
“Tate…”
"Say it, baby girl."
“You haven’t touched my pussy,” she whispers feverishly. “Please, touch my pussy. I want to come from your touch.”
